In the Family Way
by Elma MacBetsy
Summary: Based on What's Up Doc? Margaret is pregnant, but Donald's not the father.
1. Chapter 1

BJ stretched his stiff arms and yawned as he stepped out of the OR and into the scrub room. It had been a pretty rough few hours. Margaret was standing a little in front of him starting to undo the ties of her gown.

"Margaret, let me give you a hand," he offered, making his way over to her.

"Go away!" She snapped, brushing his hands away. BJ raised his arms in surrender.

"Hey! I was just trying to help!" Margaret sighed and relaxed slightly, allowing him to. "I'll have you out of there in no time" He told her, smiling.

"I just wish you people would leave me alone!" She snapped again.

"Like the way you left Nurse Bell alone back in there?" BJ asked. He was still smiling, but his voice showed that he was being serious.

"I was doing my job, and I can do it perfectly capably without anyone else's help." BJ shook his head.

"That's not it. You never fall on a nurse that hard for such a nit-picky mistake, you're too good for that, Margaret. What's eating you?" He questioned gently.

"Nothing!" She yelled back.

"Come on, you can tell me." BJ encouraged. Margaret looked away.

"I can't. I can't even imagine that it's true." Her angry façade had totally dropped away.

"What's true?"

"Will you lower your voice, please? This is extremely private." BJ nodded.

"Sure. Now what is it?" he asked again, much quieter.

"Well, I've been feeling a little off lately…"

"Yeah, and…?"

"I think that I'm…"

"What?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm…pregnant." Margaret looked away.

"Pregnant?!" BJ cried out, overjoyed.

"Shh!!!" Margaret ordered.

"You mean with child? Expecting?"

"Yes, but shh!"

"This is wonderful!" He cried, pulling Margaret into a hug. She pulled away.

"There's nothing wonderful about it!" She moved past him to sit on the bench.

"Are you kidding?!" BJ asked, taken aback by her disappointment. He remembered how happy he was when Peg told him they were going to have a baby. "A child is the most amazing thing that can happen to a person! Besides, all we see around here is death and destruction, yet in the midst of it all is this, this glimmer of life! That isn't wonderful, that's a miracle!"

"No." Margaret shook her head. "It means the end of my military career. Automatic discharge! The army is all I have. The rest of you have friends and family to go back to. You have lives! There's nothing for me at home. I don't even _have_ a home. Not really."

"Margaret, you'd get through that. You're strong. Besides, I firmly believe that a child is worth all that."

"But it's not just that. You know Donald and I are having problems. This isn't gonna solve them, it's only gonna add to them. Especially since…" She trailed off and looked away. BJ frowned.

"Margaret? Especially since…what?" Margaret bit her lip. "Tell me?" BJ asked.

"BJ, the last time I was in Tokyo with Donald was over four months ago." BJ frowned. That didn't add up. Margaret was a nurse, she would have noticed before now. So that meant that it was someone else.

"So then…who? If you don't mind me asking…" Margaret swallowed.

"How much did Hawkeye tell you about our disastrous trip to the 8063rd?"

BJ leant back against the wall.

"So you think Hawkeye is the father?" Margaret nodded.

"He has to be! The timing doesn't fit with Donald and there hasn't been anyone else." BJ frowned.

"Margaret, are you sure you're… pregnant?" Margaret shrugged.

"Yes. I mean, I think so. I haven't done any tests, but all the signs are there. Sickness, irritability…"

"Margaret, if you count irritability, you've been pregnant as long as I've known you." Margaret sighed.

"Captain," she lowered her voice, "that time of the month _hasn't been_ that time of the month yet. And that was last month!" BJ nodded slowly.

"Right. But you should still do the formal tests. Come on. We'll talk to Colonel Potter." They both stood up and headed to the door. BJ stopped just short of them.

"Margaret, you know that if you are, you're gonna have to tell Hawkeye." He paused. "And Donald." She nodded.

"I know" she whispered.

************

"Pregnant! Hot damn, that's terrific Margaret!" Colonel Potter exclaimed, ecstatic. Margaret shifted.

"Uh…Yes sir."

"Have you told your Donald the good news yet?" Margaret looked away. Colonel Potter's smile slipped slightly. BJ stepped forward.

"I think she wants to wait until she's certain, Colonel. Which is why we came to see you." Margaret seemed to regain some of her confidence.

"Yes, that's right. Colonel, is there anyway we can arrange a test here? I'd rather not have to go to Seoul for this." Colonel Potter frowned.

"I suppose it's possible. If we can get a hold of a rabbit…" All three of them turned to look towards Radar's office.

"Radar!" Colonel Potter yelled, while simultaneously Radar came in saying:

"Yes sir?"

"Have a seat, son." Radar sat down in the seat Margaret had just vacated with a confused look on his face.

"Uh, yes sir." BJ moved around so he was in front of Radar.

"Radar, you like Major Houlihan, right?" Radar looked even more confused.

"Yes sir".

"If she needed your help, you'd be willing to give it, right?"

"Uh…Yeah… I mean… probably… I guess I would sir." BJ smiled. Colonel Potter stepped forward to take over.

"Son, do you have a rabbit in that zoo of yours? A female one?" Radar smiled slightly, obviously relieved to have the conversation turn to a subject he like talking about.

"Oh, yes sir. Fluffy."

"Radar, would we be able to…'borrow' Fluffy for a while?" BJ asked. Radar nodded.

"Sure." He frowned. "But why?" BJ glanced at Margaret.

"Margaret, we're going to have to tell him." Margaret looked outraged.

"No! I told you I wanted to keep it between the three of us." Potter sighed.

"Major, it's Radar's rabbit, and we are about to ask a lot of him." Margaret hesitated, biting her lip, and then nodded.

"BJ, could you hurry up?" Margaret was hovering at BJ's side as he looked through the microscope. BJ waved her away.

"Don't rush me! This is important, I want to be sure." Margaret moved away and stood fidgeting with her hands. BJ stepped back from the microscope.

"Well? What's the result?" BJ sighed and leant against the desk.

"Margaret…before I tell you…what do you want it to be?" Margaret moved to stand next to him.

"I…I don't know. I guess I don't want to be pregnant. It'll mean the end of my career, and almost certainly the end of my marriage." BJ nodded slightly. As much as he wished otherwise, he knew that the chances of Donald wanting to stay with her while she was pregnant with his own child were pretty slim, never mind someone else's. "But a child… That's something that I never thought I'd have. I'd only ever dreamed…." She swallowed. "Tell me."

"Margaret…you're going to be a mommy." Margaret sat down on the desk chair. BJ laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. And congratulations."

************

Margaret was sitting in Radar's office clutching the phone to her ear.

"No, Sergeant. Penob_scott_, not Penob_snott_. … Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscott. …That's right, in Tokyo. … Yes, I'll hold." She sighed. As if this wasn't hard enough, without stupid Sergeants. "Donald? It's me, Margaret. … What? … Yes I know you're busy, but it's important. Donald-" She was so engrossed in the conversation that she didn't hear Hawkeye enter. He had only been planning to put his updated patient reports back into the filing cabinet, but hearing that it was Donald she was talking to, he decided to stick around. It wasn't that he was nosy, he just knew that Donald had a habit of hurting her, and he wanted to be there for her.

"Donald, shut up for a minute and listen" Margaret shouted down the phone. She was close to tears and just wanted to get it over with. "Donald, I'm pregnant." Hawkeye froze. Margaret was pregnant? His first thought was to congratulate her right then, but then he remembered two things. One, she was on the phone, and two, having a baby probably wasn't top on her to do list.

"Donald? Are you still there? … What? … You don't want a baby? … What?! Donald how can you even suggest that?! I am NOT getting rid of it in any way! … Look, I don't care whether you want it or not. … Because it's not _your_ baby, Donald." With that she slammed the phone down and put her head in her hands. Hawkeye was stunned.

"Margaret?" He asked tentatively. She gasped. He noticed that there were a few tears rolling down her cheeks. Then right before her eyes, she switched from Margaret to Hot Lips Houlihan.

"Pierce! What are you doing here?" She asked harshly.

"I was…er…" he gestured over to the filing cabinet. "Filing stuff, and I heard…" Margaret looked outraged.

"That was private phone call, Pierce. You had no right to…eavesdrop." Hawkeye sighed.

"Margaret, I thought we'd got past this already. There's something bothering you. Now tell me what it is." She was still glaring. "Please?" Her expression softened.

"Fine, but not here. In my tent." She stood and began walking to her tent, with Hawkeye close behind, smirking.

"A dream come true…" Margaret shook her head.

"Hawkeye…Please don't, this is already difficult." Hawkeye's expression turned serious instantly.

"I'm sorry, Margaret." By this point they'd reached Margaret's tent. Hawkeye opened the door for her.

"Ok, er… you better sit down." Hawkeye frowned.

"Are you alright Margaret? You're edgier than I've ever seen you." Margaret groaned, exasperatedly.

"Hawkeye!" He held his hands up in surrender and sat down at her desk chair. "Ok…Well, you probably gathered that I'm pr…"

"Pregnant?" Hawkeye filled in.

"Yes… Only it's more complicated than that." Hawkeye held up his hand.

"It's ok Margaret. I think I know the rest." Margaret looked terrified.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You're not happy about being pregnant because it'll mean the end of your army life." Margaret was fidgeting with her hands again.

"Well yes, but that's not-"

"And you were telling Donald when I walked in just now, only he isn't so keen on it, so you're thinking of doing it solo."

"Hawkeye, it doesn't matter if Donald wants it or not." Hawkeye stood up.

"Well of course not. He doesn't control you. You have just as much say in the matter as he does, if not more." Margaret groaned and stamped her foot. Hawkeye's eyebrows shot up.

"No! Pierce, let me finish!" Hawkeye sat back down. "The reason it doesn't matter isn't that it's my baby too." She had turned and walked to the other side of the tent while she'd been speaking so she wasn't looking at Hawkeye. She swallowed. "It's that it's _not_ his baby." There was silence. She let herself glance at Hawkeye's expression. He was frowning.

"What? Then who's is-" He stopped mid-sentence. Margaret took a deep breath. He'd figured it out, but she still felt compelled to say it.

"It's yours." She whispered. She was met by complete silence. She waited a couple of minute before allowing herself to look at Hawkeye. He was staring at her, unmoving. She took a few steps towards him. "Pierce?" No answer. "Hawkeye!" Still no answer. She was feeling slightly panicky now. "Hawkeye, say something!"

"Are-" He cleared his throat. "Are you sure?" Margaret nodded.

"I haven't been with Donald in over four months. Or did you mean am I definitely pregnant?" Hawkeye shrugged.

"Both…either…" Margaret looked at him. She was terrified he'd be angry, the same way Donald had been.

"Hawkeye…Do you… I mean…Does this bother you?" Hawkeye opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"I…" He desperately wanted to say no, that it didn't bother him. But this was a child. He was going to be a father. That was a big commitment. Plus the fact that his own father was bound to start suggesting marriage as soon as he found out, though that didn't sound as bad as he would've thought. "I don't know." He finally said. Margaret sat down on her bed heavily. There was yet more silence between them until Hawkeye heard Margaret sniffling.

"Margaret? Are you ok?" She looked up at him.

"You can go now Captain." Hawkeye frowned.

"What? Why?"

"Well I just thought you had the right to know. That doesn't mean I'm going to force you, or even want you to have anything else to do with me, the pregnancy or the baby." Hawkeye sat down on the bed next to her.

"You think that I'm not gonna have anything to do with my own child?" Margaret shrugged.

"Well you're hardly a family man Captain." Hawkeye swallowed. It was true.

"Well…not yet…but-" Margaret interrupted him.

"Look Captain, I know that you didn't want for this to happen. You don't have to pretend for my sake." Hawkeye was getting irritated now. He stood up and headed towards the door. Just before he got there, he stopped and turned back to face Margaret.

"Margaret, you're wrong. Maybe I didn't _intend_ for this to happen, but that doesn't mean that I don't want this too. And I'm _not_ pretending, and certainly not for your sake." With that, he left. Margaret sank back onto her bed. She realised that she had messed things up with Hawkeye. She only hoped that it wasn't permanent. She trusted him more than anyone else in the world, and knew that he'd be there with her no matter what, regardless of who the father was, or whether she wanted him there.

************

Hawkeye slowly walked into the Swamp and collapsed onto his cot. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He was going to be a father. Him! A father! And with Margaret. As much as he was known as a womaniser, he had always planned to start a family when he got back to the States. And as much as he tried to deny it, on the rare occasions he had pictured his family, Margaret was always there as his wife.

BJ was watching his friend with growing concern. He had been in for 10 minutes and hadn't said anything. Or done anything. He wasn't sleeping, he was just lying there.

"Buy you a drink sailor?" He asked teasingly.

"No. Thanks." Hawkeye still wasn't moving. BJ frowned.

"Want to talk about it?" He tried again. Hawkeye rolled so that he was on his side, leaning his head on one elbow.

"Beej…When Peg told you that she was going to have Erin, how did you feel?" BJ raised his eyebrows. He had a pretty good idea what was wrong with his friend now.

"I was ecstatic. I thought I'd never be happier. I was wrong, but it's still in the top two." Hawkeye frowned.

"Top two?" BJ smiled.

"Holding my child for the first time made first." Hawkeye nodded.

"Oh right. So you weren't…you know…er…terrified?" BJ shrugged.

"Of course. It's only natural." Hawkeye nodded.

"Right." He laid back down.

"Why the sudden interest?" BJ asked, wondering how much his friend would tell him.

"Oh. Er…There was a kid in post-op who got a letter saying that his friend…" He paused. Margaret was a little more than a friend. At least, that's the way he saw it. Maybe she didn't feel the same… "Er, girlfriend, was pregnant with his child, and he er… he wasn't sure if he was ready." BJ smiled slightly.

"What did you tell him?"

"I er…I wasn't… I told him I'd get back to him." Hawkeye replied, rolling over so that he was facing the wall of the tent. BJ wondered if he should tell Hawkeye that he knew, or if he should just wait for him to tell him himself.

"Hawk…Did Margaret tell you about…?" He left his question hanging. Hawkeye sat up.

"You know? About her being…? And about me being…?" BJ nodded. "Oh." Hawkeye's expression became even more miserable, if that was possible.

"What's wrong?" BJ asked, concerned for his friend. Hawkeye sighed.

"Well apart from the obvious, I just kinda thought she'd tell me first. I guess that was pretty stupid of me." BJ sighed.

"Hawk, don't take it personally. She didn't want to tell you until she was sure. She only told me because I was persistent and she wanted to tell someone. Colonel Potter and Radar only know because she needed their help to organise the test."

"So I was the last to know?!" He half shouted. BJ raised his eyebrows again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It makes sense." He sighed. "Beej, what am I gonna do?"

"About what?"

"About me, about the baby, Margaret…everything?" BJ shrugged.

"What do you _want_ to do?"

"I… I wanna be a dad to my child. I don't want to abandon him or her." BJ nodded.

"That's good."

"As for Margaret… BJ, when my father finds out, he'll want me to marry her. As soon as possible."

"And?"

"Well… The idea of marrying Margaret should terrify me. But it doesn't. I almost like it. But she won't. Beej, she said she doesn't want me to have anything to do with her or the baby. She said that she knew that a family wasn't my thing, and that she didn't think I was committed enough."

"She said that?"

"Not in so many words…"

"Hawk, please don't take this personally, but have you given her any reason to think otherwise?" Hawkeye's face hardened slightly.

"BJ, I won't deny the fact that I've hardly been a saint since I've been here. But for the most part, it was just sex. I've only actually felt anything besides lust three times, and each time I have been willing to go through with marriage and children. The first was with Carlye, as you know. The second was with a nurse here, called Erica. You wouldn't know her. It was a long time ago, not long after the beginning of the war. I'd only been here a few months. I only knew her for a week, but I loved her almost as much as I loved Carlye. We were gonna get married, but she didn't think that was what I really wanted. She thought that I was just going crazy from the war. She told me she was being transferred. I found out later that she'd requested it. I guess she just didn't want anyone to get hurt." Hawkeye was silent for a moment, remembering her. He really had loved her. "Anyway, Margaret knows about that. I've proved to her that I'm capable of commitment, and of love."

BJ was studying him intensely. He had known about Carlye, but he had had no idea that his friend had loved anyone else so deeply. Then he realised something.

"What about the third?"

"What?"

"You said you'd fallen in love three times." Hawkeye froze for a second, and then shook his head.

"No. I said twice. I have no idea where you got three from." Hawkeye lay back down, facing away from BJ.

BJ didn't say anything more, but his friend had confirmed his suspicions that there was a little more than just friendship between Hawkeye and Margaret, on the former's part at least.


	2. Chapter 2

**I realised I forgot a disclaimer in the first chapter, so just in case you didn't know, I don't own MASH!**

**Sorry for the long wait, folks. I've just been really, really busy with the exams and what not. Also I've been dithering about what to do with the story. Originally, this story only had two chapters. But when I reread it, I felt that it ended too abruptly and was boring, so I decided to change the plot, and make it longer, so it could be a while before the next chapter is up too. **

**Hope you enjoy reading!**

The next few days were strained, to say the least. Margaret absolutely would not talk to Hawkeye outside of surgery, although Hawkeye tried desperately to get her to do otherwise. It pained BJ a little to watch his friend get more depressed by the day as his attempts failed. While both his friends seemed to be oblivious, BJ could see that all they were doing was making themselves miserable. Margaret clearly wanted Hawkeye to be there for their child, and Hawkeye obviously wanted the same, but until they were on speaking terms, there didn't appear to be any way for them to realise it.

It wasn't just BJ who'd noticed this. The rest of the camp had noticed the sudden change of dynamics between the two, and Colonel Potter and Radar, the only other two to know the whole story, were about as sick of it as BJ was.

"I swear, if those two horse's patoots don't stop this…stubbornness, I'll…" Colonel Potter trailed off. He'd called BJ and Radar into his office to form a plan of action.

"Colonel, what exactly _can_ we do?" BJ pointed out. "As you said, Hawkeye and Margaret are both very, _very_ stubborn. Neither one of them's gonna back down first." Colonel Potter shrugged.

"Well we've got to do something! The whole camp knows something's up; pretty soon rumours are gonna fly, and the major will be none too happy for it."

"But it's just Major Houlihan who won't talk to Captain Pierce, right?" Radar asked. BJ nodded. "So…we just need to force the Major to talk to him." BJ and the Colonel nodded in agreement.

"But I don't see how we can do that. Margaret's not going to talk to any of us about it, is she?" Radar looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

"I…I think I have an idea," he said, almost shyly. Colonel Potter looked intrigued.

"Go on, son."

"Well, a couple of months, before either of you came, we were getting attacked, and Major Houlihan and Trapper went to the supply tent to get stuff…you know, like medicine and whatnot." He paused. The other two men looked at him in confusion.

"So?" BJ questioned.

"The door got stuck when they were inside. They were stuck in there for a long time, together. I don't know what…I mean, I heard a whole bunch of rumours… But after that, Trapper and Major Houlihan seemed to get on a little better." BJ was considering it, but Colonel Potter shook his head.

"I see where you're coming from, Radar, but we can't _schedule_ a shelling, and in the real thing it would be too dangerous to lock 'em out there." Radar nodded, agreeing.

"That's true, sir, but since then the door's never been right. When it's not locked, we usually keep a bit of wood next to it to keep it from closing. If that wasn't there, then the door would stick again." Colonel and BJ looked over at each other.

"Colonel, that might just work." Colonel Potter frowned, hesitating.

"I imagine that it work just fine, 'cept I'm not sure it'd be right to lock up our chief surgeon and head nurse like that. We might need 'em."

"It'd be for the greater good, Colonel. Don't know about you, but I'm not sure I can take much more of the two of them like this," BJ reminded him, offering him a wry smile.

"Plus, command's not planning any fighting this week, sir. There shouldn't be many casualties." Colonel Potter beamed.

"Ok then! Looks like we've got a fine plan. Just need to figure out how we get the two of them in there together."

It turned out that setting up the situation was a lot easier than any of them could've expected. Only a day later, one of the cots in post-op had broken, and, as the nearest free people round, Hawkeye and Margaret had volunteered to fetch the spare one from the supply tent.

As soon as they'd left, BJ hurried through to Radar's office.

"It's time," he said simply. Radar nodded, quickly standing and heading out the other door. BJ went back to make sure that the nurses were ok to cover his patients for a few minutes before following.

When he arrived at the supply tent, Radar was carefully opening the door just far enough to slip his hand in. He pulled it out a second later with a small piece of wood in his hand. Standing, he gave the door a good shove, turning to give BJ a proud grin when they heard it grate against the frame.

"I think we've got 'em, sir," Radar told him. BJ took a step forward, pulling on the door, a smile forming on his own face when it wouldn't open.

"Radar, if this works out, I swear to God, I'm gonna kiss you!" Radar took a step back.

"Oh, sir! No! No!" BJ laughed, heading back to post-op as the corporal continued to back away.

"You know you didn't have to come here," Margaret muttered stiffly. "One of the orderlies or nurses would have done just as well." Hawkeye didn't look up as he answered.

"I think I should be saying that to you. Heavy lifting isn't such a good idea for a woman in your state." Margaret glared at him.

"Don't presume to tell me what to do, _Captain_. I've already told you, you're not a part of this." Hawkeye sighed, leaning against a near-by crate.

"Look, _Major_," he imitated her own words, "I don't want to fight with you." She scoffed.

"That's _all_ you ever do!" Hawkeye continued as if she hadn't said anything.

"I just came to get a new bed for some kid in post-op, who I'm betting could really do with one. So let's just do that, then you can ignore me again later." Margaret opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it.

"Fine. Go open the door." Without any sign of pleasure on his face at winning this argument, Hawkeye carefully walked around her and reached for the door handle, pushing it.

"Uh…Margaret?" She didn't look at him.

"I thought you didn't want to fight, Pierce." Hawkeye shook his head.

"I don't. But, uh…the door won't open." She rolled her eyes.

"Let me try." Hawkeye moved aside without fuss. He'd known her too long to presume she wasn't capable of this sort of physical task. Margaret pushed at the door a few minutes longer before falling against it with a groan.

"What? What is it?" Hawkeye asked frantically, moving to her side again. "Did something-" She turned to glare at him, effectively cutting off his protests.

"_Nothing_ is wrong with _me_. The _door_ is _stuck_ again." Hawkeye frowned in confusion.

"Again?"

"Like it did when I got stuck in here with Trapper." He nodded in understanding. "I suppose we'll just have to wait here until someone notices we're missing." She walked over to the other side of the small space, sitting down on a crate.

Hawkeye didn't try to follow, instead allowing himself to focus on the hurt he felt when she'd got angry at him. He was only concerned for her; he didn't understand what her problem was. What BJ had said was true, he'd never given her any reason to think that he was in anyway suited to this type of commitment. Two years of sleeping around, crude jokes and disrespect had seen to that. The past few days, he'd been trying to show her otherwise, attempting to engage her in polite conversation then giving her space when she yelled at him for it, not flirting with her or anyone else, trying to act more professionally as a doctor, but, thinking about it, it had been stupid to think that he could change anything in four days.

"Someone better come soon," he heard her mutter. His eyes snapped to her form.

"Why?" He asked, a hint of anger creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to hide it. He was fairly sure he knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to know if she would say it.

"_Why_? Because I don't want to have to waste my day, locked in this tiny little room with _you_!" She took a deep breath. "I just know you're gonna sit there, asking dumb questions and making lewd comments." Hawkeye bristled.

"_I_ haven't said anything! I was minding my own business, until you started throwing insults round the place!" She rose and took a few steps towards him.

"What _is_ your problem? I have enough going on right now without you-"

"_My_ problem? What about you, Margaret? Let's forget for a minute the fact that you're so damn _proud_ that you won't admit, even to yourself, that you might need help and move on to how _selfish_ you're being!" Margaret looked taken aback, too confused to be angry.

"How am I being selfish?" She asked.

"You haven't taken a minute to ask me what _I_ want. Even though I've told you a whole bunch of times. What if I want to be a part of this with you? Doesn't our child, if I'm allowed to call it that," he added sarcastically, "_deserve_ a father?"

"I-I didn't think…" Hawkeye shook his head.

"No, you didn't." Margaret squared her shoulders again.

"Is there any reason why I should have done Pierce? Can you honestly tell me that a family _hasn't_ been the farthest thing from your mind?" Hawkeye shrugged.

"I don't know. But I do know that you've seen me at by best and worst, and I think I've seen the same in you. You've changed a lot since I first met you. Don't you think I could do the same?"

"I…" Margaret trailed off.

"If I hadn't walked in on your phone call, would you have even told me?" He asked softly. Margaret stayed silent. She didn't have an answer for him. Hawkeye moved to the door again, giving it one last shove, trying not to look surprised when it actually opened. He took one last look at her, frozen to the spot in the middle of the room, before heading back to the Swamp.

BJ's shift had finished a few minutes earlier, so he was reclining on his cot when Hawkeye walked in. BJ frowned when he saw his friend's face. Apparently things hadn't gone according to plan.

"Hawk? Are you ok? You were gone awhile." Hawkeye shrugged.

"Door got stuck." He sat heavily on the chair next to his bunk.

"Oh," BJ tried to sound surprised. Hawkeye's eyes slid over to him.

"You know something about that Beej?" BJ shrugged, not willing to admit to anything until he could gauge the other man's reaction. A hint of a smile crossed Hawkeye's face. "I appreciate you trying. But I don't think Margaret's ever going to come around." BJ frowned.

"Why? There's still time before she'll have to leave, she's probably just-"

"She hates me." Hawkeye cut in. "Really hates me. And I can't figure why. What you said before is true, but Margaret knows me better than that." Hawkeye's eyes hardened slightly. "To be honest, I'm getting a little fed up of this. I'm tempted to just let her have things her way. Maybe it would be better…" BJ sat up.

"How can you possible say that?!" He questioned. "Hawk, Margaret needs someone with her for this, and her child will need the same. And you're gonna be that someone. Whether you'll be there as something more than a friend is another matter." Hawkeye remained impassive.

"I'm going for a walk." He finally announced.

"Do you want me to-" Hawkeye shook his head.

"No. Thanks." He quickly left the tent.

Hawkeye walked aimlessly about the camp for a few minutes before finding himself outside of Margaret's tent. He dithered for a few moments, unsure if he really wanted to do this, but in the end the decision was made for him. Margaret opened the door and stood silently, staring at him. Her expression was not angry, which he took as a good sign.

"Hi. Er…Can I come in a minute?" Margaret pursed her lips. "I promise I'm not here to argue again. Please?" Margaret finally moved aside to let him enter.

"What do you want?" She asked shortly, although not altogether unkindly.

"I wanted to apologise. For earlier. It wasn't fair to call you selfish." Margaret looked faintly surprised, and touched, before she returned to a nonchalant expression again.

"Is that all?" Hawkeye paused.

"No. I wanted you to know that…that I'm not asking anything from you. I'm not asking you to give up what you want and start a family with me. Well, not unless you want to. I would just really like to be in our child's life, and, if you'll let me, to help you through this." Margaret's eyes flashed. "I know you're strong, Margaret," he hastily added. "But that doesn't mean you can't _want_ support." Margaret didn't say anything. Hawkeye sighed, and turned to leave again.

"Unless I want to?" She asked.

"Uh…"

"You mean you want a family? With me?" Hawkeye tried to ignore the impulse he felt to run. He usually tried to avoid conversations of this nature, but this time, he knew it was make-or-break.

"Yes." Now wasn't the time for vague answers, or answers that could be backed out of later.

"You're not going to run from this, are you?" Hawkeye shook his head.

"Not ever." Margaret frowned.

"Why? Why do you suddenly want…this?" Hawkeye paused, unsure if he should tell her the truth or not.

"Because whatever you might think, Margaret, I do want a family. And whenever I picture that family, you're always there by my side." She still looked uncertain. "I don't want that from anyone else, Margaret. Just you." He finished softly.

"How many other women have you given that little speech to?" She asked a little cruelly.

"Nobody, I swear." Margaret rolled her eyes.

"And you actually expect me to _believe _you? And for what? So we can jump in the sack now, then you can ship me off home and never have to bother with me again?" Hawkeye recoiled as if he'd been punched.

"Is _that_ what you think? Because if you do, you're…"

"I think it because you've _done_ it! Why is this any different to any of your other 'conquests'?!" Hawkeye stomped over to her, gripping her shoulders with his hands.

"Because I _love_ you!" He almost shouted. They both fell silent, breathing heavily. After a few moments, the situation turned awkward, neither one of them sure what to say next. Hawkeye was the first to pull away. "It was a mistake to come here," he muttered. Margaret's eyes widened in shock.

"Hawkeye, no! It wasn't…I'm glad. That you came, that is." Hawkeye smiled faintly.

"Thanks, Margaret, but it doesn't change the fact that I've just made everything a whole lot more difficult for you."

"No," she shook her head. "You've actually made things a whole lot easier." She took a careful step towards him, laying both her hands on his shoulders. He was frozen in place, clearly very uncertain as to what was going to happen. Very slowly, Margaret reached her head up and pressed her lips to his. "You see," she explained as she drew away, "I love you too." A small smile spread over his face as his hands reached for her waist, drawing her back to him for another kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Next chapter! I hope you like it. There's not much action in this one, just a lot of conversation etc.**

A few more days passed, and most everyone in camp was quick to notice the difference. Everything went smoother when the Chief Surgeon and Head Nurse weren't constantly at each other's throats. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Neither Hawkeye or Margaret was in any particular hurry to hide their relationship from the camp; they were private, yes, but neither one of them was embarrassed to be seen hand-in-hand, or to be caught sharing a gentle kiss. For the folks at the 4077th, nothing could seem more natural than Hawkeye and Margaret together. It made them wonder why it hadn't happened sooner.

As soon as Margaret's pregnancy had been announced, planning began for a baby-shower-come-farewell party for her, set to take place just before she left. For, while no one had said anything yet, everyone knew that the nurse would, eventually, have to leave, no matter how much they all silently wished otherwise.

Margaret, however, was having slightly more trouble with that conclusion. She'd known it would have to happen, known she would have to quit the army and start anew, and it wasn't as though she didn't _want_ to get out of Korea. It was just…well, mainly it was Hawkeye and all the what-ifs that came with their relationship. He'd mentioned once that he saw marriage in their future. But what if he changed his mind when she was gone and some blonde-haired, blue-eyed thing took her place? He'd told her he could be a one-woman man if he chose to, but Margaret had seen far too many well-intentioned men eventually cave to temptation – Hawkeye was only human, after all.

And that was just scratching the surface! Where in the States would she go? She'd never had somewhere to call home before, not properly. She wasn't particularly close to any of her family, but she knew that Hawkeye was. Should that be a factor in where she chose to live, or was she jumping the gun a bit? How big of a home would she – they? – need? Somewhere for a small family? Or would they need space for more children?

That thought stopped her in her tracks. She was getting ahead of herself – again. She was doing it far too much lately. Of course, she'd never dared share any of her thoughts with Hawkeye. She didn't want to rush things – and she knew how stupid that sounded when they already had a baby on the way. In fact, for the last few days, she'd been tiptoeing around Hawkeye, terrified that she might prompt him to bring up her return home. She needed to be more sure about exactly where that conversation would lead before she could commit to it.

She turned at the sound of her door opening, a small smile playing on her face Hawkeye appeared. He'd long since given up knocking, and now just came and went as he pleased.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called cheerfully. As he crossed the room towards her, she briefly let herself wonder what it would be like to hear that everyday for the rest of her life. When he was standing in front of her, he bent his head to kiss her gently, resting his hand on her abdomen, as was his customary greeting now. He made to pull away from her, but she stopped him with a hand on the back of his head, pulling him back for a longer, deeper kiss. She was stalling; she wasn't ready to talk yet. He finally pulled away from her, happy but confused.

"Margaret, is something wrong?" She stepped out of his embrace, laughing airily.

"No, no, I'm fine, Hawkeye." She he knew he wouldn't buy it, not for a second. He knew her too well. He frowned and stepped closer to her again, taking her hand in his.

"Margaret, something's wrong. Now tell me." Margaret bit her lip, but remained silent. When he didn't make a cocky remark or a bad joke, she made her mind up.

"It's getting closer…me having to leave, I mean, and we've never talked about… I don't really know what to do." After a brief flash of sadness in his eyes, he frowned.

"You don't know?" He echoed. She shook her head.

"I don't really have any friends or family to go back to. Everyone I knew joined the army." They shared a brief smile. Hawkeye sat down on her bed, pulling her with him.

"Well, we'd have to stay near Crabapple Cove. I hope Maine works for you, because I can't really leave dad." He looked down at her, apparently seeing something in her expression that she didn't know was there, because he hastily added: "You'd like my dad, and we can always move somewhere else later…" He looked away from her, pulling her tightly against him. "The houses in Crabapple Cove are all beautiful; you'd love them. They're not too expensive, either. Maybe we could get one by the beach. We could paint it blue. I've always like blue – we don't see enough of it here. There's plenty of space for kids, and it's just around the corner from dad." Hawkeye was staring at the opposite wall of her tent with a soft smile on his face, clearly lost in his vision of home. She wondered if it looked anything like she was imagining. His smiled faded as he looked back at her. "Or we could do something else, if you'd prefer." She shook her head.

"It sounds perfect," she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him slowly, all her fears gone.

* * *

Hawkeye left Margaret's tent more than a little on edge. Like Margaret, he'd been dreading that conversation. What if Margaret had wanted to live somewhere else? He loved Margaret, truly, he did; but he wouldn't – couldn't – leave his dad. He'd shared her other fears too. He'd seen so many soldiers get the dreaded 'dear John' from their wife or girlfriend. He didn't blame the women, just as he didn't blame the equally unfaithful men her knew in Korea. He blamed the war. All the same, the idea of Margaret being swept off her feet by a colonel – maybe a general – based in the USA while he was stuck in Korea…

And that was without even thinking of his fear of fatherhood. He'd talked to BJ, and it had helped some, but he was still certain he was going to be a horrible dad. Maybe Margaret had been right. Maybe he wasn't ready for a family. He'd been trying, but there wasn't _really_ a baby yet. Not one that he could screw up, anyway. But then he'd come out with all of that about the future – _their_ future. He was good at thinking on his feet – he'd got more than one nurse into his bed with whispered promises of commitment, sometimes whole speeches that he'd thought of in a matter of seconds, although he wasn't exactly proud of it. But this time, he really _felt_ what he'd been saying. He'd been thinking about what he wanted to do for weeks, and he could so clearly imagine Margaret standing with him on a veranda, watching their children – _children_, plural, more than one – running around the yard. It was idyllic, it was clichéd, but it was what he wanted, and a huge grin spread across his face as he realised that it was what Margaret wanted too.

* * *

Hawkeye gingerly lifted an unidentifiable brown lump to his nose, recoiling from it almost instantly.

"Smell this!" He demanded, thrusting his fork in Margaret's face as she sat next to him, attempting to eat her own dinner. She frowned and tried to move away. "No seriously! What do you think it smells of?"

"Hawkeye…" She complained, shuffling a little further along the bench.

"I lost a pair of gym shorts in my first year of high school," he began, and Margaret sighed, leaning her head on her hand. "I found them at the back of my locker a week before graduation." He slammed his hand down on the table triumphantly. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear out cook had just stuck those same shorts in gravy and served it with a side of creamed…" he poked the runny substance with his fork. "Potato." He decided. Margaret dropped her fork.

"How the Hell did BJ put up with sitting with you for so long?!" Hawkeye held up his hands in defence.

"Hey, I'm just being honest." Margaret sighed again, wondering if maybe she'd been too quick to snap. It wasn't _his_ fault that the army didn't seem to understand that the most important thing about food was the fact that it was edible. Just as she was about to apologise, he carried on. "Telling it like it smells. And let's face it, a pubescent boy's sweaty, never-been-washed shorts make for a pretty accurate comparison." She glared at him.

"I can barely keep anything down right now as it is, _Pierce_! I don't need you sitting there, with your…_smelling_ and…and…_describing_!" Hawkeye opened his mouth to retort when BJ and Colonel Potter appeared, each carrying a chair.

"Hi kids!" BJ greeted. Hawkeye and Margaret both gave a mumbled 'hi', too busy glaring at each other to say much else. BJ and Colonel Potter sat down opposite them, trying to gage how serious their argument had been. Not very, BJ guessed, given that they were both still here. He stabbed something brown with his fork and brought it up to his mouth, unable to stop himself taking a whiff first – too much time eating with Hawkeye.

"Ugh!" He grimaced. "Food's bad today. Smells like old gym shorts, right Hawk?" He watched as Hawkeye shot Margaret a smug grin as she folded her arms and turned away, finally breaking their glare. BJ smiled – it'd been nice to have Hawkeye and Margaret getting on so well, but this, this bickering, was such an integral part of their relationship. He'd missed it.

Colonel Potter surveyed the couple and decided a change of subject would do them a world of good.

"So, you two got any names picked out for the little one yet?" Both Hawkeye and Margaret visibly brightened.

"Well," Margaret began, shooting Hawkeye a quick smile, "We were thinking Alan for a boy." BJ and the Colonel laughed as Hawkeye rolled his eyes.

"No, _we_ weren't thinking anything of the – OW!" Hawkeye rubbed his arm where Margaret had elbowed him, hard. "But then Alan certainly does have its merits…"

"What about if it's a girl?" BJ asked.

"Melissa." Hawkeye replied quickly. BJ raised an eyebrow.

"And was this a group decision too?" Margaret nodded.

"Yes, actually. We just think it's such a lovely name." Hawkeye reached over and took her hand.

"Well, we'd have a lovely daughter." The two smiled softly at each other. BJ and Colonel Potter both smiled too, both enjoying one of the many moments they'd witnessed that made them sure Hawkeye and Margaret would be together forever.

* * *

BJ, Colonel Potter and Radar were, along with the rest of the camp, gathered in the mess tent for Margaret's party. The three men had, while they waited for the guest of honour, decided to start the drinking early.

"I've said it before boys, and I'll say it again: that plan was genius. I hope you're proud of yourself, son. A lot of good has come from it." he addressed to Radar. Radar shrugged, blushing slightly.

"I didn't really…I mean it was Captain Hunnicutt who got everything sorted, I just… I'm just real happy that they're together, and they're going to have a baby, and it's gonna be wonderful with a mommy and a daddy and everything!" They all smiled.

"They're generally the people required, Radar," BJ reminded him, but silently agreed just the same. He trusted Hawkeye to do the right thing; trusted him more than anyone else he knew. But, for a while, at the start, he'd wondered if things would work out. Hawkeye and Margaret were two of the most stubborn people he knew. He'd wondered if maybe both of them would be two proud to admit what they really wanted.

"Do you think they'll have a girl baby or a boy baby?" Radar asked excitedly. BJ smiled again, something he'd been doing almost non-stop for the past few days.

"I bet Hawk wants a little girl. You can just imagine him being the over-protective dad when the boys start calling."

"And if she's anything like her mother, you can be damned sure they will!" Colonel Potter agreed.

"I think Cap'n Pierce would like a boy." Radar put in. Potter shook his head.

"I sure as Hell hope not. Can you imagine another Hawkeye running around the place?" He asked, chuckling, then quickly falling silent with his companions..

"They're all gonna be fine, aren't they?" Radar asked a few moments later, breaking the hush. BJ considered the question carefully before he answered. It _was_ going to be tough on them. They were both so stubborn, like he'd said, and they both had very strong opinions. They could argue like no one else he knew. But then…then there was a softer side to them both, which balanced out the fire. If you'd told him when he first got to the 4077th that the hot-headed, regular army nurse and the pacifistic, would-be draft dodging doctor would have ended up together, he would have laughed in your face. But still…there was something between them. He opened his mouth to give Radar his answer, but was interrupted by a gun shot.

"Get down!" Someone called as another shot sounded. Everyone quickly dived under the tables, waiting nervously for the shooting to stop. Fortunately, it seemed that the two blasts were all they were getting. As people started to get back to their feet, they heard footsteps approaching the door.

"Is that-" BJ started to ask, but stopped halfway through, frowning. The steps were coming much too fast, and they clearly belonged to only one person, whereas Margaret had Hawkeye with her. The door was flung open and Klinger, who'd been pulling guard duty, burst in, rifle in hand.

"What the Hell's the matter, son?" Colonel Potter demanded.

"It's Major Houlihan sir."


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter! Thanks for all your reviews, and I hope none of you are too upset about Margaret.**

Hawkeye couldn't wait to see Margaret's face when he took her to the mess tent. He knew that, although she would never admit it, she was very insecure. She needed to be reminded that the people here did genuinely like her, and the planning that had gone into tonight was going to prove that to her once and for all. He hoped, at least.

He knocked on her tent, something that he hadn't done in ages, and waited patiently for her to answer. He wanted to be the perfect gentleman tonight – he had his tux on and everything.

"Just a minute!" Margaret called. Only a few seconds later, she pushed the door open, looking shocked to see him. "Hawkeye!" Hawkeye smiled and looked her over. She was wearing a beautiful silk robe from Tokyo – definitely suitable for a party. He held his arm out to her.

"If the lady would allow me to escort her…?" She smiled back at him, and put her arm through his.

"Where are you escorting me to?" She asked as he shut her door behind her.

"That, my dear, is a surprise." She frowned, and his smile grew. "Don't worry – you'll see in a few minutes." He began walking through the compound very slowly. Although he was certainly looking forward to the party, he wanted some time alone with Margaret first. He stopped when they got to the centre of the MASH unit. Margaret raised her eyebrow.

"Is _this_ where you were taking me?" Hawkeye grinned.

"_This_ is just for starters." He took both her hands in his, instantly becoming serious. "Margaret…you have to go back to the States soon…and I can't stand the idea of you leaving without knowing how much I love you." Margaret smiled up at him. He removed one of his hands from hers, sticking it in his pockets, fingering the object he'd put in there earlier.

"I love you too," Margaret responded, standing up on tiptoe so that she could reach to kiss him.

"I know," he replied with a smile. "That's why there's something _very_ important I need to ask you before you leave." He opened his mouth to continue, but the sound of a gun being fired cut across him.

"Hit the dirt!" Hawkeye quickly turned around to see Klinger charging towards him and Margaret. "Get down!" Klinger dived to the ground near them. Hawkeye was about to do the same, when he heard a second shot being fired.

"Margaret!" He yelled. as he watched her fall on her back, a hand pressed against her stomach. Hawkeye dropped to his knees by her side. "Margaret!" He repeated more gently. "Margaret, can you hear me?" He hastily exposed her lower abdomen and replaced her hand with his on the wound to stem the rate of bleeding. Margaret moaned, opening her eyes almost sleepily.

"Hawkeye…it hurts, Hawkeye…" He clasped her hand with his free one.

"I know, sweetheart. You're going to be ok, I promise. It'll be fine." His head snapped round to face the other man. "Klinger, go and get some help!" Klinger shot up from where he'd been lying on the floor and rushed to the Mess tent. Hawkeye's attention returned to Margaret as she made an odd gasping sound.

"Hawkeye, the baby-"

"Is going to be fine," Hawkeye interrupted, trying to force his voice to stay calm. "You're both going to be fine, I promise." Margaret closed her eyes. Hawkeye bit his lip. He hadn't even thought of their child. And considering where the bullet went in- No! He screwed his eyes shut. He wouldn't – couldn't – think like that. "Is _anybody_ coming?!" He yelled across the compound. A couple of seconds later, BJ, Colonel Potter, Charles and several orderlies and nurses appeared.

"Margaret?!"

"What happened?"

"Is she ok?"

Ignoring the panicked voices of his friends and co-workers, Hawkeye spoke coolly over the noise.

"We need to get her on a stretcher!" Two orderlies appeared next to him with exactly that. Together, they lifted Margaret on to it, and then the orderlies rushed her off to pre-op.

"Beej – scrub up. I want you assisting me on this." With that, Hawkeye took off at a run towards the scrub room. BJ looked desperately at Colonel Potter.

"Hawkeye can't do this – look at the state he's in!" Colonel Potter nodded.

"I know." He turned to the man behind him. "Winchester, you and Hunnicutt will do the surgery. I'll talk to Pierce." Charles nodded silently, and the three men ran to the scrub room.

* * *

"I thought you were never going to get here!" Hawkeye glared at BJ as he, Charles and Potter entered the room. Both him and Charles headed to the sink. "You know, there's really no need for you and Charles to be here, Colonel. It's not really a four-man thing. But I here Dumas is thinking of writing a sequel, if you're interested." Colonel Potter appraised the other surgeon.

"You're right, it's not. Margaret only needs two doctors: Winchester and Hunnicutt." Hawkeye continued to scrub. "Did you hear me Pierce? I think you should sit this one out." Hawkeye glared at him.

"Colonel, I don't really have time for this. She could be-" He shook his head. "Margaret needs me right now." Colonel Potter frowned.

"Pierce, I am _forbidding_ you from doing this operation. You're too attached. You're not in a fit state to work right now, you _know_ that." Hawkeye slammed his scrub brush down.

"Colonel, I'm not in the mood for this! Margaret is in that room," he pointed towards the OR, "with a bullet inside of her. _I_ am going to get it out of her." BJ appeared at his side, carefully drying his hands.

"Come on, Hawkeye. You know he's right. Come on, me and Charles have got it covered." Hawkeye wheeled around to face him.

"_Don't_ try and stop me, Beej." Hawkeye warned in a low voice before he pushed past him and headed for the OR. Colonel Potter sighed, and nodded to the MPs who had followed them into the scrub room. They stepped forward and grabbed Hawkeye's arms, pulling him back.

"Hey! What the Hell?!" He began trying to pull away. "Get off of me!" Colonel Potter shook his head.

"I'm sorry son, but you _know_ that you _cannot_ perform that operation right now. How about you step into my office, and we'll have a drink?" Hawkeye slumped slightly, defeated. Before the MPs could properly remove him from the room, a gleam of fight returned to his eyes.

"BJ!" BJ turned, just about to enter the OR. He resisted the urge to take a step back at the dangerous look in his friends eyes. "BJ, if you mess this up…if anything happens to her – _anything_… I'll fucking kill you." BJ swallowed, then nodded grimly. He couldn't be mad at Hawkeye. If he was in his position, and it was Peg on the table… He couldn't even begin to imagine how bad he would be.

* * *

Colonel Potter sat down heavily opposite Hawkeye, pouring both of them a generous glass of scotch. Hawkeye took the proffered drink, knocking it back in one go.

"It should be me in there." Colonel Potter shook his head.

"Pierce, I'm not interested in having this argument with you again." He sighed. "Look, Hawkeye, everyone's worried, ok? _I'm_ worried. _BJ_ is worried. Even _Winchester_ is worried." Potter frowned, remembering Hawkeye's words from earlier. "What they definitely don't need right now is death threats." Hawkeye remained silent. "I know you love her, Pierce. The whole camp knows that. But you're going to have to remember that _if_, God forbid, she doesn't… Well, it won't be Hunnicutt's or Winchester's fault." Hawkeye glared at him.

"And how do you know that, Colonel? Huh? How do you know that if I was in there, she'd have a better chance?" Colonel Potter shook his head again.

"Don't go down that road, son." Hawkeye fell silent again. He leant forward against the desk, resting his head on his hands.

"Oh God…" he whispered. He moved his hands to cover his face, trying to hide the tears he could feel forming in his eyes. "Oh God, what if she's not alright?" Colonel Potter watched quietly as Hawkeye's shoulders began to shake slightly. He took his hands away from his face, and Potter almost flinched at the desperate look in the other man's eyes.

"It'll be ok," Colonel Potter assured him, although they both knew it was an empty promise.

"We had all these plans… I had the perfect house all picked out for us, back in Crabapple Cove…" He took in a sudden, shaky breath. "This is all my fault…" Colonel Potter stood, moving his chair around the desk so that he could sit next to Hawkeye.

"No." He said firmly. "Pierce, this is _not_ your fault. You can't blame yourself. Blame the North Koreans…Blame the army…By all means, blame anybody! But it's not your fault." Hawkeye shook his head rapidly.

"But it is!" He let out a broken sob. "It _is_! I was going to _marry _her! I should have _protected_ her!" Hawkeye slumped forward onto the desk again, covering his head with his arms. Colonel Potter gently place a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder.

"How?" He asked softly.

"I could have…jumped in front of her. I-I could've pushed her down, before…" His words were muffled.

"There wasn't time for that, Pierce. This isn't a movie." He didn't think he'd convinced his friend, so instead settled for wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he cried.

* * *

Later, the two men were still sat in Colonel Potter's office. Hawkeye had managed to calm down some, leaving them in a companionable, albeit nervous, silence. Hawkeye was looking down at his lap. He was still wearing the tuxedo, he realised. He hadn't even taken the bowtie off. He reached up to loosen it, and noticed some odd marks on his sleeve.

"I have blood on me." He whispered. Colonel Potter nodded, unsure what to say. Abruptly, Hawkeye stood up. "What the hell is taking so long?!" He kicked the chair, knocking it over. Colonel Potter frowned reproachfully, but was too shocked at the sudden outburst to say anything. At that moment, the door swung open, and BJ walked wearily in, still dressed in scrubs, mask dangling around his neck. His face conveyed his message clearly: it wasn't going to be good news.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry! It's been too long, especially with the way I left the last chapter. I'm actually a little nervous about posting this chapter, so please tell me what you think!**

Hawkeye fell upon BJ as soon as he entered the room.

"Well?! What happened?! Is she alright? Is she ok?" BJ sighed heavily.

"Maybe you should sit down, Hawk." Hawkeye crossed his arms and glared at his friend.

"I'm fine standing up, thank you. Now give me some damn answers!" A hand pushed firmly down on his shoulder. He looked around to see Colonel Potter standing behind him. He pushed again, and Hawkeye let himself fall into the chair. "Is she alright?" He repeated brokenly. BJ picked up the fallen chair and sat opposite him.

"It was a…delicate operation. But you already knew that. Margaret is…fine, I suppose." Hawkeye frowned.

"She's alive, then, at least. Is it a serious injury?" BJ shook his head.

"Not really, Hawkeye, it's just-" Hawkeye stood up again.

"So she's ok! Did you hear, Colonel? Margaret's ok, she's absolutely…" He trailed off as he noticed Colonel Potter still staring at BJ. "You're not finished, are you?" BJ shook his head slowly. Hawkeye sat down in his chair again. "But…Margaret's fine…" Then it hit him, and he hated himself for being so _stupid_ as to not think of it before. "Our baby," he breathed. BJ nodded, just as slowly.

"I'm really sorry, Hawkeye. We tried everything, but it was a direct hit. The bullet-" Hawkeye held up a hand to stop him.

"Please. Don't." BJ nodded again.

"Again, Hawkeye, I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine…" BJ trailed off. He looked between Hawkeye and Colonel Potter. "I'm going to go. One of the nurses should find you when Margaret wakes up." BJ stood and headed out through the doors. Potter sat down in his place

"Pierce?" Hawkeye ignored him, staring down at his hands. "Hawkeye?"

"That son of a bitch killed my child." He muttered harshly. Colonel Potter remained silent, unsure who Hawkeye was referring to. "Our baby!" He let out a painful sob. Colonel Potter tried to ignore the tears that were starting to form in his own eyes. His heart was breaking for the anguished man in front of him, and then breaking again for the unconscious woman in post-op who'd have to hear the same news.

"I don't know what to say." He responded honestly.

"It would have been beautiful." Hawkeye looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. "It would have been beautiful, and perfect, and _ours_." Colonel Potter reached out to place a reassuring hand on the other man's arm, but he jerked away. "Leave me alone!" He snapped. He stared at the Colonel, breathing heavily, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry…" he muttered, turning and bolting out of the office. Colonel Potter sighed, and, putting his head in his hands, finally let a night's worth of emotion come out.

* * *

Much later, it only took Colonel Potter a few seconds to guess where Hawkeye had run off to. He walked slowly out of his office and into post-op. Hawkeye was hunched over in a chair next to Margaret's cot. BJ was standing near by, talking softly to him.

"You haven't slept in almost twenty-four hours," Potter heard BJ say as he drew closer. "Come on, Hawk, just lie down for a while. Look, you can even stay in here," he pointed to the empty bed next to him. Hawkeye shook his head stiffly, his eyes never leaving Margaret. Potter stopped next to BJ.

"What's going to here, boys?" He asked. BJ turned, looking almost surprised to see him.

"Colonel, I really think Hawkeye should sleep." His eyes seemed to implore the colonel to agree with him. Potter looked over at Hawkeye.

"Well Pierce?" Hawkeye didn't move.

"I can't leave her." He didn't offer any more than that. Colonel Potter nodded slowly.

"That's fine, then." BJ stared at him, mouth open.

"But Colonel-" He began. Potter held up a hand.

"Hunnicutt, can I speak to you in my office, please?" BJ nodded reluctantly, then headed towards the door. Taking one last look at Hawkeye, Colonel Potter followed.

* * *

The two men sat opposite each other in the Colonel's office.

"Colonel, Hawkeye's exhausted. He's had a hard day, and it's only going to be worse when Margaret wakes up. He _needs_ to sleep." Colonel Potter nodded.

"I agree. But, Hunnicutt, he's not causing any trouble. As you said, he's had a hard day. So maybe he _needs_ to be near the woman that he loves. That seems fair enough to me." BJ shrugged. Colonel Potter sighed. "It's not just Pierce I'm worried about. Hunnicutt, if you push him like that, even if you mean well…he might end up saying things that he doesn't really mean, and those might be things that you don't need to be hearing right now." BJ nodded, understanding fully what the other man was telling him.

"Colonel…does he blame me for this?" Colonel Potter looked at him for a long time.

"Right now? I don't know." BJ laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, but long term? When he's had time to really think about it?" Colonel Potter shook his head.

"Not long term. Pierce is too good of a man to hold a grudge like that, especially when there _isn't _any blame." Potter held BJ's gaze for several moments, trying to convey all the meaning in his words with only his eyes.

* * *

Hawkeye sat unmoving, focusing all of his attention on the unconscious woman in front of them. He was glad BJ had finally left him alone, he thought as he lifted up the hand he was holding, absently placing a kiss on the back of it. He wasn't stupid. He _knew_ he was tired, and he _knew _that he'd be absolutely no help to anyone if he didn't sleep soon. But he couldn't – _wouldn't_ – leave Margaret's side. Someone had to be here when she woke up. She would have questions, and Hawkeye was damned if he was going to let anybody else answer them, no matter how much it would hurt him.

"Oh, Margaret…" He whispered. He pressed his face against her hand, closing his eyes. He almost jumped when he felt that same hand move, tenderly stoking his cheek. His eyes fell open. "Margaret?" Her eyes were open, watching him. "Margaret!" He cried, turning his head and pressing a kiss to her open palm before leaning over and kissing her softly on the mouth.

"Hawkeye…" she whispered. For a few seconds, Hawkeye forgot about the awful news he had to tell her, too overjoyed with finally having her back with him.

"Margaret, I was so worried! I-I thought I wasn't gonna see you again!" He felt tears roll down his cheeks. Margaret brushed them away lovingly.

"It's ok; I'm ok." He leant down and kissed her again.

"I love you," he told her, smiling.

"I love you too," she returned. And then it all came rushing back to him, and the smile slipped from his face. "What's wrong?" She asked, frowning. Hawkeye looked at her sadly, feeling for all the world like he was about to break down into sobs again.

"Margaret, I'm so sorry." Was all he could manage to say, placing a hand over her abdomen. Margaret looked like she was about to ask another question, but she stopped, instead peering down at his hand.

"The baby?" She finally asked, dreading the answer. Hawkeye shook his head.

"I'm so sorry." He repeated. He watched her warily, unsure what to expect from her, and equally unsure of how he would react to her. Would she cry, he wondered? Would she shout and scream? Would she blame Charles and BJ as he himself had come so close to doing? Would she blame him?

Her reaction turned out to be far worse than he could have anticipated. He watched as she stiffened, her eyes hardening. She lifted her head up, staring firmly at some point on the opposite wall.

"You can leave now, Captain." Hawkeye stared at her, his grief overcome by his shock.

"Wha…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "What?" Margaret still didn't look at him.

"You can leave now. There's no need for you to be here." Hawkeye shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Margaret. _You're_ here. That's need enough, as far as I'm concerned." He tried to take her hand again, but she slapped his wrist.

"Don't touch me!" She almost screamed, drawing stares from the other people in the room. Margaret returned each look with a glare. "I'm ordering you to leave me alone, Captain." She finally said. Again, Hawkeye shook his head.

"Margaret…I don't…I don't understand this…" He frowned. "I love you." Margaret finally looked at him, and Hawkeye almost flinched at the coldness he was met with.

"Be realistic, Captain. We both know that it was only ever about the baby, and now that there's no baby…" She left the sentence hanging.

"It _wasn't_ just about you being pregnant." Hawkeye insisted. "Not for me." Margaret's expression didn't change. "Please," Hawkeye whispered, begging for the first time in his life. "Please don't do this to me. I _need_ you. I _love_ you."

"I _don't_ love you, Captain. Now _go_." Forced to finally admit defeat, Hawkeye stood slowly, watching her carefully for any sign that she was going to change her mind. When he saw none, he turned his back and quickly left the room.

Margaret watched him go, not allowing herself to cry until the door had closed behind him. She carefully rolled onto her good side and pulled her legs up to her chest, trying her best to stifle her sobs. She desperately hoped that Hawkeye would come back and hold her. She wanted him to tell her that she was lying, and that he _knew_ she loved him too. But she'd done too good of an acting job. She had actually convinced him that he meant nothing to her. And now…now she had nothing. Her baby, her wonderful baby, was gone, thanks to the war. And the only man she'd ever loved was gone too, except this time she only had herself to blame.

**AN: I know from reviews that people were hoping for a slightly happier 5th chapter, but I'd had this planned for ages: it had to be either mother or child. **


	6. Chapter 6

**It has been far, far too long, especially since I've had this chapter written for months. I guess I just really, really suck at updating. I have many, many excuses for not updating in...what, almost a year? I know, it's a pitiful effort. The chapter after this is also finished, but I've done absolutely nothing on the one after that, and I don't want to post chapter 7 until I have chaper 8 well under way. The upshot of all of this is that I can't give you any kind of promise that the next chapter will be added in a timely manner. Once again, I apologise. Anyway, on with the show!**

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* * *

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When he stepped through an open door into the Swamp, Hawkeye was almost surprised. He didn't recall deciding to come here, nor could he remember the journey from post-op itself. When he found himself sitting on the edge of his cot, staring blankly into the middle of his tent, he didn't remember how he got there either. It wasn't until BJ was kneeling in front of him, gripping his upper arms and shaking him firmly that he realised the Swamp hadn't been empty.

"Hawkeye?" His friend half shouted. Hawkeye pushed the other man's hands off of him and moved a small distance away. "How are you doing, Hawk?" Hawkeye just shook his head. "Have you spoken to Margaret yet?"

"Don't Beej," Hawkeye begged, his eyes imploring his friend to understand. BJ just nodded, and allowed their tent to fall silent. Too much had happened in the last 24 hours to both of them, but especially Hawkeye. BJ wasn't able to process how close one of his friends had come to dying, nor could he process the fact that he'd been unable to save his friends' child. He imagined that Hawkeye, for whom the situation was infinitely worse, was also entirely unable to cope with all that had happened.

After what could have been hours of both men silently avoiding their thoughts, Hawkeye spoke.

"It's over, BJ." His voice was so quiet that BJ struggled to make out the words.

"Hawk?" He questioned carefully.

"It's all over," he repeated slightly louder.

"What's all over?" BJ asked, frowning. He could think of too many things his friend could be referring to.

"Everything." Hawkeye whispered brokenly, and then, clearing his throat, said in a louder voice: "Me and Margaret. Margaret and me." BJ stared open mouthed at the other man. He couldn't mean what BJ thought he meant, could he?

"You and Margaret?" Hawkeye nodded slowly, looking at his hands.

"Margaret and me," he muttered. "She said we were only together for the baby…and now that there wasn't…wasn't a baby…" Hawkeye raised his eyes, exuding anguish, to BJ. "Beej, she doesn't love me anymore. Or…or she _never_ loved me… I don't know which is worse…" BJ moved so he was sitting on the cot next to his friend, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Hawkeye's head fell limply against his shoulder.

"She doesn't mean it," BJ whispered firmly to Hawkeye. "She's hurting, and she doesn't mean it." When he didn't get a response, he glanced down and smiled, relieved to see Hawkeye asleep.

* * *

Margaret wasn't left alone with her tears for long. A few minutes after Hawkeye had left, she heard the creaking of the chair next to her cot as someone else sat down.

"How are you doing, Margaret?" She quickly wiped her eyes before she rolled over to face the owner of the gruff voice.

"Colonel Potter," she greeted. "I'm doing fine, sir, thank you." He frowned at her. He didn't like her sudden formalness any more than she did, but she couldn't help it. She didn't know how else to survive this.

"Uh huh," he muttered. "I'm truly sorry, Margaret." He told her. "I'm sure you must be real torn up." Taking a deep breath to stop the new flow of tears she could feel about to start, she frowned, trying to look as confused as she could.

"About what, sir?" He stared at her, unyielding. "Oh, right. You mean…that." She tried to think of a better response, but nothing came to mind. Thankfully, Colonel Potter changed the subject.

"I saw Hawkeye come in here earlier." He watched for her reaction carefully. One of the nurses had come to fetch him as soon as she'd seen Margaret awake, so he'd been standing just inside post-op long enough to hear most of their conversation.

"You mean Captain Pierce? Yes, I think he did drop by…"

"Horse Hockey, Major!" He had intended to keep calm, as despite his anger with her for the way she was behaving, he cared deeply for her, and he knew it wasn't right to criticise her reaction to such dreadful news. "I heard your entire conversation." He continued, more softly. She looked away.

"Oh…" She whispered. Potter sighed.

"Margaret, the last day has been rough. I know you must really be hurting." Hesitantly, she nodded. "But Hawkeye's hurting too. I know; I spent half the night sitting up with him." He frowned. "And now you've gone and said all that to him… It's not doing you any more good than it is him, is it?" She shook her head. "Everyone in camp can tell that's not really how you feel. Everyone but Hawkeye, that is." Margaret nodded again.

"I know." She looked back at the Colonel, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I didn't mean to say…what I did. But he came in here, and told me…_everything_, and I didn't know what else to do!" She began crying more openly as the Colonel squeezed her hand. "I _do_ love him. And I _need_ him. But I've screwed that up now!" The Colonel smiled gently at her.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Margaret. That boy would do anything for you. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's back here tomorrow morning, at the _latest_, begging for you to take him back." Margaret wiped her eyes again.

"I should be the one begging." She told him. The Colonel stood up.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But if I were you, I'd just let him apologise. He feels awful guilty." With that, Colonel Potter headed back to his office, leaving Margaret trying to figure out what Hawkeye could possibly be guilty of.

* * *

Unwilling to leave his friend alone, BJ spent the next few hours sitting on his cot, watching Hawkeye sleep. He wasn't angry with Margaret. A part of him wanted to be, the part that was staunchly loyal to Hawkeye. But he knew what Margaret could be like, and in this situation he wasn't going to judge anybody's actions. He just hoped that the two of them sorted everything out, and soon.

A knock at the door caused him to look away from Hawkeye.

"Sir?" Radar called softly from the other side, quickly pulling it open and stepping inside.

"What is it, Radar?" BJ asked quietly.

"Dr. Pierce is on the phone for Hawkeye." BJ nodded and stood up, moving over to Hawkeye.

"Hawk?" He reached down and gently shook his shoulder.

"What is it?" Hawkeye jerked awake, sitting up so fast that he almost bashed his head on BJ's chin.

"Hawk, your dad's on the phone." BJ told him. Hawkeye nodded, slowly getting to his feet.

* * *

BJ waited quietly just inside the door of the office with Radar as Hawkeye sat at the desk with the phone.

"Hi Dad…I'm ok, I guess…what?" He pulled the phone away from his ear, pressing it to his shoulder. "He wants to double check details…for when he picks up Margaret from the airport." Radar frowned, apparently not having been filled in on all the details of the previous night. BJ frowned too, but because of the helpless look in his friend's eyes.

"What are you going to tell him?" BJ asked quietly.

"I…I don't…" He shook his head. "I don't know what the Hell to tell him! I don't know if…" He sighed, and lifted the phone back to the side of his head. "Uh, sorry Dad…you know, bad connection. So, Margaret…Um…I-I don't…" He sighed again. "She's not coming home as soon as we thought…Well, there were some c-complications…Yeah, the war…She's ok, I think, but..." He took another deep, shaky breath. "The baby isn't…" He stopped, and quickly glanced back towards BJ and Radar, his eyes now pleading. BJ and Radar looked at each other, and then, before BJ could say anything, Radar opened and closed the door forcefully.

"We got wounded in the compound!" He called, slightly louder than usual. Hawkeye's expression changed, instantly looking relieved.

"Sorry Dad, I gotta go. Yeah, I'll write. I love you." He placed the phone back heavily in the bag, surreptitiously wiping away a couple of stray tears from his face. "Thanks Radar." Radar shrugged.

"It's ok." He paused. "I'm real sorry about..." He trailed off.

"Thank you." He stood. "Anyway, I think me and BJ are going to head back to the Swamp now. See you around, Radar." Hawkeye left the room, BJ close behind him.

* * *

"What happened back there?" BJ questioned gently as soon as they'd entered their own tent. Hawkeye sat down on the edge of his cot, reaching for the empty martini glass sitting on the floor next to him. He made no move to fill it up, instead just twisting it slowly in his hands.

"He just…He realised what I was saying, and he wanted… He had all these questions, Beej. I hadn't even _thought_ of some of them, and I don't have answers for any of them. What the Hell was I supposed to tell him?" BJ shrugged.

"Maybe he could have helped?" Hawkeye shook his head firmly.

"He doesn't know her. There's nothing he could have said." BJ frowned, not fully convinced, but sensing it wasn't a subject worth pushing. "I think…I think maybe Margaret just needs some space."

"Maybe," BJ agreed easily. Hawkeye nodded, seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

"Yeah. I'll go talk to her again in a few days, she'll have had some time to deal with…stuff, and I'll see where we are then." BJ bit the inside of his lip, trying not to let his worry show through. He had a feeling that his friend was making a huge mistake.


	7. Chapter 7

**First of all, I apologise for what I think is going to wind up being a far-too-long AN. Secondly, I hope that some of you will be pleased to know that this story is back on track! I know almost exactly how the rest will play out, and I reckon I can probably get it all written pretty quickly. So yay! The reason for the return of inspiration is partly from re-re-re-etc-watching MASH, but mostly, I think, the consequence of two wonderful weeks of work experience in hospitals in India. I got to see a lot of surgeries, and even assisted with one (not bad for a girl still in school!) and was, frankly, amazed at how many of the surgical tools and procedures I recognised just from watching MASH! Pretty astonishing, huh? I actually spent a couple of days in a hospital that reminded me a bit of a MASH unit. I only ever saw one doctor the entire time I was there (the director) who seemed to be responsible for everything, and he spent the whole of every afternoon just switching between two interconnecting OTs doing one surgery after another. The conditions didn't seem to be that dissimilar either, barring explosives etc. The whole thing was fascinating!**

**To finish up with something a little more relevant, I sorta want to apologise for this chapter and the next one, when I put it up. I feel that both are too much like filler chapters, with not enough action, and I'm sure at least one of them is unnecessary. Trouble is, I have no idea which, so you get both anyway! Now that I've done rambling, I hope you enjoy!**

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Margaret slept terribly that night. While she had managed to half convince herself that Hawkeye would forgive her, and hopefully pretty soon, as Colonel Potter had insisted, she still had the bigger problem of figuring out what they would do now. To an extent, what she'd said to Hawkeye before had been true. So much of their relationship had been built around their baby, she had no idea how they'd function without...'it', for lack of a better term. Then of course there was the fact that she still needed to deal with what had happened, but she was certain that she would be able to just as soon as she had Hawkeye with her again.

So that was why, despite spending half the night preparing herself for that very scenario, she was surprised when morning rolled around and Hawkeye didn't show up. She didn't want to completely give up hope yet, so she tried not to assume the worst. He was probably just sleeping in, or he was working, or…something. When lunch was served and he still didn't appear, she still managed to write it off. Maybe BJ had gotten a bad letter from home, or maybe Hawkeye was too depressed about everything that had happened to really talk to her yet. But when she hadn't seen him by the time she was finishing dinner, she began to wonder if maybe he wasn't going to come at all.

She swallowed. It was unsurprising, really. She'd brought this on herself, after all. He was probably still upset about their earlier argument. Or too proud to make up. She was forced to admit the possibility that her words had struck a chord with him…that maybe having thought about it, he agreed. But…no. No. She didn't accept that, and, besides, there was no point worrying about it until she knew for certain, either way. She swallowed again. There was no point _crying_ over it, until she had proof. In fact, she was Margaret Houlihan. She wasn't going to cry at all. She took a deep breath, trying to cement that thought in her mind before attempting sleep. She _wasn't_ going to cry.

* * *

"D'you think one day counts as giving her space?" Hawkeye asked BJ over breakfast the next day. BJ glanced up from his coffee as he considered how best to answer.

"I…yes. Probably. Why, you thinking of talking to her?" He tried to keep his tone casual, rather than revealing the hope bubbling up within him. Hawkeye just shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe." He replied, turning his attention back to his tray.

"Hawk…" BJ began, and then trailed off, having no particular idea how best to persuade his ever-stubborn friend.

"Eugh, how about this…what, is it meant to be bacon?" BJ sighed. Apparently, that was the subject over.

* * *

Hawkeye had pretty much convinced himself that it was still too early to turn up in post-op. He was desperate to fix this…whatever 'this' was. But, if he was honest with himself, he was too much of a coward. Pretty much the whole camp had spoken to him in the last couple of days, passing on their condolences and assuring him that Margaret hadn't meant what she'd said…but what if she did? Or what if she was still mad, or upset, or whatever emotion was supposed to be the cause of the argument? Hawkeye didn't think he could hear it again

That was why it was so especially odd when he found himself just outside the door to post-op, staring in through the window at Margaret. She looked…better, he decided. Healthier. She was recovering very, very well, he'd been told. Admittedly, she was sleeping now, so it was hard to get a clear idea, but…yes. Definitely better. So it wouldn't be _so_ hard just to push open the door, would it? And, surely, it couldn't be _too_ difficult to walk in, kneel at Margaret's bedside and declare his undying devotion to her? So what if there was a chance she meant what she said? There was also a chance that she didn't, right? Or wrong. His shoulders slumped. He groaned, leaning his head against the small window in the door.

"This shouldn't be so complicated…" he muttered, eyes falling closed. He opened them a few moments later to find another pair staring back at him from across the room. Margaret was awake. It should have been the perfect moment to follow through with his plan. But he froze. He couldn't read the expression on her face. Was she…hopeful? Or maybe that was just a manifestation of his own wishful thinking. Irritated? Angry? Apathetic? He couldn't tell from this distance, and right now he didn't trust himself to judge it anyway.

* * *

It came as a surprise to Margaret, too, when she woke to see Hawkeye on the other side of the door, eyes shut. She allowed herself a small indulgent smile. She hadn't seen him in so long – too long – and she took a moment to just...enjoy him. And then his eyes opened, and they were so…_pained_, the smile fell from her lips. She'd hurt him. Well, it wasn't entirely her fault, she supposed, but she was still overcome with a desire to hold him and make it better. She held his gaze, trying to convey everything she was feeling with one look: primarily, her desire for him to just come to her.

_Come on, Hawkeye!_ She thought. _Please, please, get the message, and come on!_

But he didn't. He stayed where he was, and she stayed where she was. And they both looked, unblinkingly, at each other. Her hope diminished with each passing second. And then she saw him raise his hand, reach for the handle, start to push…!

"Major Houlihan?"

* * *

He had two choices: go in, or leave. And seeing as how he wasn't making any progress with the going in option, it was only fair to both of them to leave. And yet! And yet… He couldn't.

_To Hell with it!_ He finally decided, reaching for the door. But before he could advance further than that first step, a nurse approached Margaret's bed. Lunch, maybe, or midday medication. Something like that, anyway. Regardless, the moment was gone. His shoulders once again slumped, and he tore himself away.

* * *

It had been a simple question, but reasonable. Just an enquiry into her general well being – were the pain killers working well enough? And the nurse was just doing her duty, after all. At any time, Margaret would have been proud that her staff were doing such a thorough a job. But when the nurse had moved on to the next patient, and Margaret had the chance to look back at the door, Hawkeye was gone.

It wasn't really a surprise, she told herself. Frankly, she was amazed he'd come as far as he'd had, after what happened last time….but…_God, _why couldn't he just _come back_?

* * *

From a hidden corner, Radar watched the whole exchange. When he'd seen Hawkeye headed for the post-op, he'd followed. Spying was wrong, his ma had always said, but…well, since he wasn't a cat, a bit of curiosity probably wouldn't do him any harm. He'd been so sure that this would be the big reunion, and he didn't want to miss it. And then Hawkeye stayed outside. _Come on, come on_! Radar silently encouraged. It was obvious even from the distance he was at that Margaret was pleased to see Hawkeye, yet the man didn't go in. And he kept not going in right up until he left. A moment of realisation swept through Radar: they could all stay as optimistic as they liked, but their favourite doctor and nurse weren't necessarily going to get their happy-ever-after. He suddenly felt a little older and wiser. Some things just weren't meant to be.

* * *

**Again, I sincerely apologise for going on so much at the start!**


	8. Chapter 8

The situation seemed to reach a standstill after that. Everybody felt that they'd done everything they could, and, really, what more was there to do after that? Hawkeye seemed to have all but given up on fixing the busted relationship, no matter how miserable it clearly made him; Margaret was still stuck in a hospital bed, too separate from the world outside of post-op to have much of an impact on it; and Colonel Potter, BJ and Radar had decided that it was no longer their place to interfere. Besides, they were fresh out of ideas. An air of hopelessness settled over the camp, but with Hawkeye, their unofficial (usually) morale officer, being the centre of said hopelessness, there seemed to be no way out of it.

This was the world Margaret found when BJ, Charles and Colonel Potter had finally decided amongst themselves that she was well enough to return to her own tent. She had other things on her mind though, worrying as she was about her first meeting with Hawkeye. The camp was a small place, and realistically she knew she couldn't avoid him for long. She hadn't seen him since sending him away, bar that short stretch of eye contact through the door. He must have been working night shifts all week, but whether by choice or not, she didn't know. Maybe he'd been actively avoiding her. Maybe that would continue. Or maybe when they finally managed to both be in the same room, everything would fall back into place, and she could tell him how sorry she was and how much she loved him. It really all depended on one thing: did Hawkeye still want to be with her?

* * *

A similar question had been playing on Hawkeye's mind as he sat in the mess tent nursing a cup of now-cold coffee. Did Margaret still want to be with him? 'No', was the obvious answer. 'No' was the answer she'd given him. And yet some stubborn, naïve, childish streak in him refused to believe it. There was a chance, part of him insisted, that she still loved him. Ok, the other half humoured, let's say that's true. Did he still want to be with her? _Yes_, with all his heart. So the ball was in her court; he'd take his lead from her.

The decision made, he rose from the table, abandoning his undrinkable coffee, and strode towards the exit. His movement was stopped suddenly when, as he reached the doorway, he found himself chin to forehead with another body.

"Hey, will you mind where you- Oh."

* * *

Margaret sighed. She wasn't getting anywhere lying in her bed. The question still went unanswered – not, she supposed, that she could ever answer it by herself. She checked the clock on her bedside table. She wasn't sure she'd prepared herself enough to see Hawkeye yet…but lunch was being served in the mess, and she had strict orders from three doctors to eat. She sat up slowly, wincing as she felt her stitches pull slightly, and then equally slowly got to her feet. She very, very carefully pulled on her pink robe over her pyjamas and left her tent, making slow and careful progress across the compound. This provided something of a distraction – she was sick of everything taking twice as long as usual! She glared at the ground, as if it was somehow responsible for the whole thing, and didn't look up until her forehead made contact with something rather solid.

"Hey, will you mind where you- Oh."

"Oh." She repeated as she looked up at the object of her thoughts for the last week.

"Margaret… How-how are you? You look good." Internally she cringed at how awkward Hawkeye seemed, but she couldn't help the small smile that formed at the compliment.

"Liar," she disagreed softly. He returned the smile.

"No, I mean it. Definitely better than…than last time I…" He trailed off, and they both looked away. A thick silence fell over them. "So…" Hawkeye began, and she looked up at him again hopefully. "I guess you're here for lunch? Be careful, the, uh…the meatloaf is, uh…uh…extra drippy, today." It was a Friday. Meatloaf wasn't served on a Friday and they both knew it, but Margaret didn't comment on it.

"I'll be sure to look out for it." The silence returned, full force.

"Well, uh…I'll see you around." She nodded once in agreement, and then turned her head away, trying to hide her disappointment. 'So this is it', she thought. 'This is what we've become'. That thought was quickly stopped though, as an arm – Hawkeye's arm – brushed against her abdomen, putting a little too much pressure on her still tender wound. She gasped, and immediately a hand softly grasped her shoulder.

"Margaret? Are you alright? God, I'm sorry! I should have been more careful. Here, let me help you." Hawkeye placed his hand gently against her lower back and guided her into the mess tent and towards the nearest seat. Margaret almost smiled, despite her still present pain, at the sudden change in his demeanour. She'd never been so grateful to elbowed in all her life. Once she was seated, his hands moved, one hovering hesitantly above her injury, the other stroking her hair. Or she thought it was, anyway: it was a very light touch.

"Hawkeye, I'm fine. Really." She smiled, as if that somehow proved her point. The concerned frown didn't leave his face. She took one of his hands with hers and squeezed. "_Really_." He still didn't look completely happy.

"If you say so…" She started to stroke his hand lightly with her thumb, and watched as a smile again fell across his face. "But you wanted lunch?" He asked shortly. She nodded the affirmative. "Wait right here." He returned a few minutes later with a full tray, setting it down in front of her.

"Thanks." She shot him a grateful look.

"Save that until you've eaten it. I, of course, apologise. This is in no way an appropriate gift to present to an ailing woman." This time, Margaret glared at him.

"You can save your 'ailing woman' talk. I'm _fine_." She brought the first forkful of food to her mouth. "Ugh. You were right before; this really _is_ bad, even for here!" He chuckled along with her, and then the concerned expression returned to his face.

"You will eat it, though, right?" He eyed her somewhat critically. "You need to eat. You've lost a lot of weight." Obviously she's lost weight, is the immediate response that sprung to her mind. She lost a _baby_ – quite a bit of weight to lose. But, of course, the comment never made it to her lips. Even thinking it was enough to dampen her spirits, and Hawkeye didn't deserve to be hurt by her anymore.

"Of course," she agreed quietly. She ate the rest of her lunch mostly in silence. There was a little idle chitchat, but they were both avoiding the big topics. When she'd finished eating, Hawkeye took her tray in one hand and her elbow in the other, insisting on walking her back to her tent. This time, she was glad she could only move at snail's pace, enjoying every second she spent with Hawkeye, as bittersweet as they were. They came to a stop at her door.

"This is my stop," she joked weakly.

"Yeah…" For a second, Margaret thought he was going to do something – hug her, kiss her cheek, _anything_. But instead, he just stuffed his hands in his pocket and repeated his earlier farewell.

"See you around, Margaret." She watched his back until it was inside the Swamp with the rest of him, before returning to her own tent. All in all, she decided, the lunch had been a lot less awkward than it could have been. It reminded her of…before. _Before_ before. When they were friends. Well, she'd promised herself she'd take her cue from him. She nodded resolutely. Friends. She could live with that.

* * *

Hawkeye, too, returned to his tent, going straight for his footlocker. He lifted out the small box he'd stored there…what seemed like forever ago. He flipped it open, running his fingers gently over the ring inside. An engagement ring. An engagement ring he'd been going to give her the night everything went to hell.

She still had feelings for him; of that he was certain. There was just a certain look in her eyes, a certain way she acted. But it was equally obvious that she had no desire to act on these feelings. She was still hurting, and clearly she thought that a romantic relationship with him would make that worse. He slammed the box shut. Well, he loved her enough to let her get over him, if that's what she wanted. So he'd be her friend – nothing more.


	9. Chapter 9

"Come on, son. Almost a whole week in Tokyo! It's a good offer." Hawkeye sighed, leaning back heavily in the wooden chair. Colonel Potter was right; it _was_ a good offer. Six days of R and R, well away from their little corner of Hell. And usually he'd have been out the door like a shot, probably without waiting for the Colonel to finish the sentence. But this time…

"I'm not sure, Colonel. What if…what if you need me for something? We could get a lot of wounded, and I might-"

"Bull cookies!" Potter interrupted, although good-naturedly. "You're chief surgeon; you've seen the reports. We're not expecting any wounded for at least a week. And even if we were…talented as you are, Pierce, I think the rest of us can handle a few patients without you looking over our shoulders."

"But what if you get a chest wound? I'm a chest cutter, and so-"

"And so is Winchester."

"And so is Charles…but what if-" The Colonel raised his hand, cutting Hawkeye off.

"I think I know what this is about." He found himself imitating Hawkeye as he too sighed and leaned back. "Hawkeye, I've always tried not to interfere with you and Margaret-"

"Apart from when you schemed to get us locked in the supply tent."

"-but I think perhaps now's the time to talk things over. It's rough, the way things are between the two of you. I know." Hawkeye shook his head quickly.

"We're fine; we're friends. _Good_ friends." And it wasn't wholly a lie. It had been three days since Hawkeye's and Margaret's meeting in the mess tent, and in those three days, Margaret's appearances outside of her tent had been frequent. They'd fallen back into an old and familiar routine. Well, _almost_. It was awkward, strained on both sides, Hawkeye imagined, but they were both putting so much effort into acting like things were perfectly fine, sometimes it had seemed like they really were.

"And I also know that that's eating you up inside. You're getting yourself all tied in knots." Again Hawkeye shook his head, but Colonel Potter didn't give him a chance to interrupt again. "Don't argue with your commanding officer, Pierce, it won't end well for you. You can pretend with everyone else as much as you want, but it doesn't wash with me." The Colonel moved forwards in his chair, scrutinising the younger man carefully. But Hawkeye wouldn't budge.

"We're friends," he repeated firmly. Colonel Potter sighed.

"Alright. I don't believe it for a second, but have it your way." Something very closely resembling smugness fell across Hawkeye's face. "But I still think it would do you some good to take a few days off." Hawkeye's face froze, smugness forgotten.

"So I can get over her, you mean."

"I'm not saying that. For one thing, you've just sat here telling me how you're not _under_ her…uh…so to speak. But maybe it'll help your…perspective on things." The two sat in silence for several minutes, as Hawkeye considered the Colonel's words.

"But…but what if something happens?" He eventually asked.

"Hawkeye, Margaret's recovering nicely. She'll be ok. And if, God forbid, she wasn't, I'd drop you a line." Hawkeye nodded hesitantly. Colonel Potter beamed at him.

"_Good_! Here's the pass. There'll be a chopper here in the next hour. And behave yourself in Tokyo!"

* * *

Margaret was somewhat surprised to enter the mess tent and not find Hawkeye already there, sitting at a table, fork and nose at the ready. After filling her chair, she approached BJ and Charles, sliding into the seat across from them.

"Good evening, Margaret," Charles greeted. She smiled in return.

"Is…is Hawkeye around?" She asked somewhat timidly. BJ shook his head.

"The Colonel sent him to Tokyo for a week's R&R. Sorry." Margaret felt her shoulders slump as unexpected disappointment swept over her.

"Oh." She responded quietly, but unnecessarily as BJ had resumed his conversation with Charles. It was silly, really. She'd already messed things up between them both, and really, she was lucky he was still willing even to be civil to her, never mind _friends_. It was already more than she'd realistically expected. But all the same…he could have at least said goodbye. Isn't that what friends did?

But then, they weren't really friends, were they? Oh, they could try as hard as they liked, but the fact of the matter was that you couldn't be friends with someone you were in love with. Not really. She'd just been kidding herself. With Hawkeye, it was either all or nothing. She'd already lost the all, so that left her with…_nothing_.

* * *

"Major?" Colonel Potter knocked gently on Margaret's door the morning of the day before Hawkeye was due back. "Can I have a word?" Margaret stood from her cot, still being mindful of her injury, and slipped her robe on before unlocking and opening her door.

"Good morning, Colonel." She smiled politely.

"Maybe we'd better sit down for this," he suggested, a serious expression on his face. Immediately, Margaret felt all the blood drain from her face. She sank down onto her cot, vaguely gesturing to her desk chair for the Colonel. "Margaret, I have some news…"

"It's Hawkeye, isn't it?" She interrupted quickly. "Something happened to him in Tokyo, and he's not…he's not…" she trailed off, finding herself unable to finish the sentence. Colonel Potter held up a hand.

"Woah, slow down there, Margaret!" He chuckled lightly. "Hawkeye's fine. Well, as fine as he ever is on R&R." He laughed again, shaking his head, before quickly sobering. "I'm sorry, Margaret. I didn't mean frighten ya." He lifted his other hand, revealing the papers he'd brought in with him. "This has been a bit slow coming through…but then you're familiar with the army way. They're sending you home, Margaret." Her mouth fell open.

"But…but there's no reason to…"

"Margaret, you were seriously wounded! That's reason enough in anyone's book, mine included. You've done your duty here, so now you get a stateside posting." He glanced at the outline of the bandage showing against her robe. "When you're all better, that is." She rose, starting to pace.

"But I can't just…these people are my…how am I supposed to say goodbye to them? How can I leave when they're…when _you're_ all still here?" Colonel Potter sighed.

"Margaret, that's another thing I wanted to talk to you about. It might be…difficult for you to make _all _your goodbyes." Margaret frowned.

"What do you mean?" He handed her the paperwork.

"I told you this came through on the late side. You leave tomorrow morning." Margaret stared at the writing in front of her.

"Tomorrow…so soon…" She tore her eyes away. "Is… Will Hawkeye be…?" Colonel Potter placed a hand on her shoulder.

"He might be. But it's possible you're just gonna have to go home without seeing him." Margaret didn't respond. How could she? She wanted to scream or cry or hit something. Just when she thought some degree of fairness was starting to enter her life… She'd resigned herself to having nothing more than a friendship with Hawkeye. But there had been a spark of hope that wouldn't go away, that reminded her that their previous relationship had been born from a good friendship, and that things could change. But not now. This was it. The end. And she wasn't going to get to say goodbye. Colonel Potter cleared his throat.

"I know this is hard for you, Margaret. I know you and Hawkeye are still very…close." He offered her a smile. "I'm an old fashioned kind of man. I still believe that love'll win out every time. I'll be damned if you two don't fine each other again." He reached for her, enclosing her in a warm embrace. She leant her head against his shoulder.

"I hope so Colonel."


	10. Chapter 10

**We're nearing the finish! This is, unless I make any sudden changes, the penultimate chapter! I'm hoping to post the final chapter in the next couple of days - I'm leaving home on Sunday, and I suspect that if I don't get this done now, it could be months before I get around to it. Hope you're still enjoying this!**

The final arrangements were made faster than ever before. Margaret was packed in a matter of hours and her leaving party, courtesy of BJ and Charles, was set up even faster. Even the last bits of paperwork had been filled out, in triplicate, relatively smoothly. There had been only once small complication

"The army's giving you a choice, Major," Colonel Potter had explained. "You can either recover in a vet hospital, or you can take some leave and rest up at home." This gave her pause. Spending her first weeks back in the States in some cold, strange hospital where she didn't know anybody was _not_ her first choice.

"I'd like to take the leave time, please, Colonel." He'd nodded, making a note of it on the form.

"And for the army record…where exactly is home?" She froze at the question that had plagued her for so much of her life. 'Home' was a somewhat foreign concept to her. In fact, 'home' wasn't a concept to her at all. An answer leapt unbidden to her mind, and made it to her mouth before she could think it through.

"Maine." Colonel Potter looked up at her, frowning slightly.

"Margaret, are you sure-"

"Crabapple Cove, Maine." She wasn't going to get the chance to make her apology face to face. She only hoped he would get the message.

* * *

Hawkeye found himself almost disappointed to return to camp. Under any other circumstances, he would have laughed at that. _Almost_? Really? But this time was different. He'd been reluctant to leave in the first place, taking the pass really only to humour Colonel Potter. Hawkeye shook his head, a smile on his face. Well, turned out the man knew a thing or too after all. The time away had been, he'd discovered, exactly what he'd needed. He felt fresh and new. And ready to talk to Margaret.

He shut off the engine as he rolled into the compound, grabbed his suitcase from the backseat and headed for the Swamp. He opened the case to remove his towel and bathrobe, before heading for the showers.

He'd just finished soaping his chest when Radar rushed in, glancing anxiously around the tent as if he expected Hawkeye to be somewhere besides the shower stall.

"Radar. Radar!" He called to get the corporal's attention. "If you're looking for _me_, I'm here." It was the sort of comment that would usually warrant at least at least a mildly confused expression. Instead, the statement went ignored. There was a strange mix of emotion showing on the younger man's face: fear, sympathy, guilt… All of a sudden, he was overcome with a feeling of déjà vu. There was something about this scene…the showers, the soap…that expression… He shut the water off.

"Radar, what's up?" Radar swallowed nervously.

"Aw, geez! I'm sorry sir! There wasn't anything we could do, I swear!" Hawkeye placed his hand reassuringly on his friend's shoulder.

"Radar, slow down! C'mon, start from the beginning." Radar took a deep breath.

"It's Major Houlihan, sir." Hawkeye felt the fingers of his reassuring hand begin to tighten.

"Margaret? Did something happen to Margaret?" He couldn't help the note of desperation that reached his voice. Radar's eyes widened.

"Oh no sir! No! Nothing happened to her, she's fine and ok and-and…" Hawkeye frowned, feeling irritation starting to grow inside of him.

"So then…what?"

"She…when you were in Tokyo…she got her orders. Colonel says they were delayed. There wasn't enough time to… she had to leave this morning." Radar cautiously placed his hand on top of Hawkeye's. "I'm real sorry, Hawkeye." The feeling of déjà vu suddenly made sense, and Hawkeye was very glad that it was Radar giving him the news. He was the only other person in the camp who would recognise the situation.

"When did she leave?" He heard himself asking.

"'Bout an hour ago," Radar told him. Hawkeye almost smiled. It _could_ be enough time. But was it worth chasing after her? He _had_ decided to let what they used to have be; it was only during the last week that he'd realised that he just couldn't do that. Accosting her at the airport, however, was not the same as a quiet conversation in her tent. He didn't want to embarrass her, and he didn't want to upset her. Especially not when she was getting out of here – that should be a happy experience for her. Not one pulled down by old, unwanted memories. Radar seemed to notice his hesitation.

"Sir, there's more. She's not just going _home_. She's going to _your _home. Crabapple Cove, Hawkeye." This time Hawkeye really did smile. He could take a hint when he heard one.

"Whaddya say Radar? You up for it again?" Radar grinned.

"I already signed out a jeep for you." Hawkeye laughed, and, seeing as it seemed fitting, leaned over and kissed Radar's cheek.

"Aw, ick!" Radar complained, but half heartedly this time. Hawkeye laughed once more, and grabbed his towel, planning to get dressed faster than any man had dressed before.

* * *

The Korean countryside rushed by beside them, but neither Hawkeye nor Radar paid it any attention. Radar had both hands clenched around his seat, fearing for his very life. Hawkeye turned a faintly critical eye to the jeep's speedometer as he eased the gas pedal down a little more. Not for the first time, he found himself cursing army jeeps – you'd think in a warzone, speed would be of the essence, but based on the vehicles the 4077th had been given, that was apparently not the case. He wondered briefly what exactly they _were_ designed for – they were slow, uncomfortable and rather pathetic, falling to pieces at a moment's notice. But a particularly sharp corner was coming up, so he turned his attention fully back to driving.

He heard Radar expel a breath as they just barely made it without skidding off the road.

"Hawkeye, maybe you oughta slow down, huh?" He asked tentatively. A hundred responses flew through Hawkeye's mind, some funny, some mocking, some cruel. Eventually he settled on the truth.

"I _need_ to see her." Radar didn't comment again.

* * *

He stopped the jeep immediately outside of the departures, half-threw himself from the vehicle and pushed through the wooden door. A chuckle caught in his throat when he saw it was the same sergeant behind the desk as it had been last time he'd done this, back when Trapper… But he couldn't think of that. Not now, because last time he hadn't made it in time. This time he would. He _had _to. The sergeant was on the phone, and Hawkeye started to suspect that it was simply the man's default position. He was having, by the sounds of it, just as nonsensical conversation as before and probably to the same general, too. But that didn't matter, because this time Hawkeye knew exactly what he was looking for. He smoothly reached over the desk and around the other man and plucked the clipboard from the wall. The desk sergeant gave him a reproachful look, but other than that didn't pay him any attention.

Hawkeye flipped rapidly through the various pages of flight details, slicing his finger open in his hurry. It was as he instinctively raised his hand to his mouth in an attempt to soothe the cut that he found what he was looking for. His hand dropped to his side, pain forgotten. He felt his chest contract and for one horrible second found himself unable to breathe. And then the moment passed, leaving him dizzy and with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

"Ten minutes. She left ten minutes ago."


	11. Chapter 11

**And we've reached the finish! Thank you so much everyone who's read this far, and everyone who has reviewed. I _think_ I've thanked you all individually anyway, probably more than once - I lose track :P. **

Radar waited patiently in the jeep, hoping beyond hope that any second now his friend would exit the building and speed towards whichever one the right hangar was. He hoped that he'd been wrong before, that maybe this was a story that could have a happy ending after all. And when his friend finally did emerge, with sad eyes and slumped shoulders, he changed his mind and hoped that this could be a story that was, for now, without an ending at all.

Radar, already anticipating Hawkeye's actions, slid over to the driver's seat, letting Hawkeye fall heavily into the passenger side.

"Let's go home, Radar." Radar nodded once, and started the engine. He drove slowly, or at least far slower than Hawkeye had done, which allowed him to sneak glances at the other man. Hawkeye just stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to anything and everything around him. If BJ were there, Radar thought, it would be better. BJ could always handle Hawkeye when he got like this. _He_'d know what to say. Radar didn't. 'Sorry' didn't seem to cover it. He couldn't even really say that it wasn't Hawkeye's fault, because…well, it sort of was, Radar decided. He'd had weeks before there was any suggestion of Major Houlihan leaving. If one of them had just _said_ something…! But it was too late for that now. Hawkeye hadn't, and Margaret hadn't, and pretty soon they were going to be thousands of miles apart.

But that definitely wasn't the right thing to say, so Radar said nothing.

* * *

When they got back to camp, Hawkeye headed straight to the Swamp without a word. He poured himself a drink and took a seat on his cot next to his open suitcase. He really thought he was going to make it! He'd been so sure…but then he'd been just as sure he was going to catch Trapper up. The similarities between the two events were uncanny…he'd even been staying in the same hotel in Tokyo. Neither one had left a note, just a hint to let him know they'd thought of him: Trapper's kiss and Margaret's destination. He took a sip of his drink, and then set it down on the floor.

"Not thirsty, huh?" His head snapped up. BJ had appeared by his side. He hadn't even noticed him come in. Hawkeye shrugged.

"Just not in the mood," he mumbled. BJ raised his eyebrows, but chose not to comment.

"I just ran into Radar." He began. "I'm sorry. It must be rough on you." A humourless laugh escaped from Hawkeye's lips.

"Understatement of the year." BJ sat down on his own cot facing his friend.

"You two can still have a future together, you know. She's gone to Maine. I think it's pretty obvious that she wants to be with you."

"And how well would that work out? Both of us have wasted all this time _guessing_ what the other wants! I assume I know how she's going to act, how she's going to think, and she does the same damn thing to me! One argument, back in the states, and everything goes down the drain." He reached down for his martini, suddenly needing a drink more than he'd thought he did. "Just like it did here." BJ shook his head firmly.

"You can't know that! It's not the same situation, Hawk. Korea _is_ different." Hawkeye shrugged.

"Maybe so. Still doesn't matter. I've messed things up again already!" BJ quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? How so?" Hawkeye threw him an 'isn't is obvious?' look.

"She _wanted_ me to follow her! She knew someone would tell me as soon as I got back, and she knew what I'd do when I found out. It was a _message_." BJ scoffed.

"You think she's laid out some sort of treasure hunt too? That you'll have to track her all around the world before you can have her? Be reasonable Hawkeye. All it means is that she's waiting someplace she wants to be and where she knows you'll find her." But Hawkeye was adamant.

"I _know_ Margaret. Remember the indirectness we were _just_ talking about?" BJ looked at him pointedly.

"The same indirectness that came about from you making random assumptions?" Hawkeye ignored him.

"She was giving _me_ the choice. God, she thinks I never showed up! She thinks that I…that I don't want…" BJ moved swiftly to sit next to him, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"Hawkeye, can you listen to yourself? None of us had a clue when you'd be getting back! Even if Margaret _did_ mean for you to follow her, the fact that you didn't get there in time means exactly that! She's not going to _think_ anything!" Hawkeye still didn't look entirely convinced.

"Maybe so…but she's still going to get home never knowing that I still…_love_ her." BJ gazed at him thoughtfully.

"So tell her." Hawkeye frowned at him in confusion.

"Huh?"

"You know where she's going to be. Send a telegram to your dad's house. It'll be there when she arrives." A smile started to grow on Hawkeye's face.

"Beej, you're the best!" He exclaimed, beaming. BJ returned the smile.

"I know," he agreed. "You're not far off, yourself." Hawkeye's expression turned serious once more.

"I think this is it, Beej. I think we're really gonna make it." BJ nodded, glad beyond words to hear the hope in Hawkeye's voice. He'd missed it.

"You ready?" Hawkeye smiled once more.

"Yeah. I think I am."

* * *

"Yeah, that's right. A telegram … To Crabapple Cove, Maine … Uh huh … 'Margaret', stop. 'I love you', stop. 'Just ten minutes too late', stop. Sign it 'Hawkeye'. … Ok, that's great. Thanks." Hawkeye put the phone down and leaned back in the desk chair, feeling closer to contented than he had done in weeks. Margaret would know what it meant. He was confident that they reading each other right, finally. Funny that it should only happen when they were miles and miles apart. He hoped they could keep it up when they were reunited.

* * *

_Hawkeye_. _It's never too late_. _Margaret_. _P.S. I love you too._

_

* * *

_

**Epilogue**

The day had finally arrived. The war was over. He was out of Korea. He was home.

Well, to be more accurate, he was bouncing on his toes waiting to disembark the aeroplane in Portland airport, Maine. He was impatient; the crowd was moving far too slowly for his liking. But he was excited enough for the impatience to manifest itself as anticipation rather than irritation. A grin that he was sure probably looked completely absurd spread over his face. In a few short minutes, he would be standing beside two of the people he loved most in the world: his father, and Margaret. And he couldn't wait!

The crowd started to move, slowly but surely, and soon he'd made it to the exit. He thanked the crew members waiting there climbed carefully down the steps the tarmac beneath. Maine soil. Well, Maine concrete, anyway. It was close enough, for now. As he neared the baggage claim, he saw two familiar faces peering through the mass of people. His smile grew. His father, a tall man, was able to look over their heads with ease. Margaret was all but jumping up and down to achieve the same thing. Neither one of them had noticed him yet. He paused for a moment and reached a hand into his pocket, checking once more that it was still there, where it had been since he left Korea.

Fingers tightening around the box, he took a few more steps forward, coming into his family's view. Margaret's face lit up when she saw him. She flew into his arms, holding him tightly. His father was hot on her heels, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

Turns out some stories have happy endings after all.

_Fin_

**AN: I hope it doesn't seem to rushed. I weighed up my options, and decided that I couldn't really write the rest of the war. It would have gone horribly wrong.**_  
_


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